A Whole New World
by Miss Nova
Summary: Jean's life turns around completely when her best friend, Annie Malcolm, dies, and makes more unexpected twists as she meets some very special people afterwards. Harry Potter-X-Men Crossover HP Universe. Badfic warning, Jean is totally OOC. Dropped.
1. Summary and Author's notes

**Summary:** Jean's life turns around completely when her best friend, Annie Malcolm, dies, and makes another unexpected twist when she meets some very special people afterwards.

**Warnings:** Okay, people, Jean, _my _Jean, doesn't exactly have the perfect life. I'm basing her mom, Elaine, off of descriptions of her personality in Minisinoo's _Climb The Wind_.

Reference to child abuse and wounds given! If you don't want to see it alluded to, don't read. Possible scary scenes. They don't scare me, but I don't scare easily, so, just, warning.

**Intended Audience:** Older teens, like over 14… Up to chapter 11 things are pretty tame.. that's all I've got written at the moment, though, so I can't really tell. Hopefully, if you're reading this, you're an X-Men or Harry Potter (Marauder's Era) fan. That is also my intended audience. Duh.

**Point of View:** Jean's POV. Unlike _Orders_, which I need to finish.. :D, the POV will not jump around like a kid on a trampoline. This is just her. 1st person, Stephanie Meyer style. Keep in mind, Jean is a telepath, so at times, you will see other people's thoughts.

**Disclaimers:** Jean and all X-Men characters belong to MARVEL Comics, Stan Lee, yeah, you know, that lot.

Jean's mom's personality is based heavily off of Minisinoo's _Climb the Wind_.

Remus, Sirius, James, Lily, Petunia, and that lot belong to J K Rowling

Some tiny _tiny_ plot steals from the Shoebox Project by LadyJaida and Dorkorific of Livejournal.

**Category:** X-Men/Harry Potter cross-over

**Era:** WAY Pre-X-Men Movie/MWPP Era.. We're talking 1969 is when this starts…. So yeah…


	2. The Calm Before the Storm

_Dear Diary,  
Mom's throwing another party to impress the neighbors. Why am I not surprised? She told me to behave myself. As I look in the mirror at the small redhead in the frilly green dress, I wonder who she's kidding. All I can do in this stupid thing is sit, look pretty, and behave myself.  
At least, my best friend, Annie Malcolm, will be there.  
We've been together forever. Mom says we were born within hours of each other. I don't doubt that. She also says that we are just about as troublesome as one another. I don't doubt that, either.  
How much do you want to bet Mrs. Malcolm also put Annie in an ugly, frilly dress. I guess it's worth the torture, if Annie's in for it dime for dime._

I wandered down the stares to see if Sarah, my thirteen-year-old sister, was ready.  
I leaned against the door frame and watched her put makeup on. I never understood why she bothered. She was pretty enough with her short red hair, green eyes, tan complexion, and high cheekbones.  
"Heya, Jeannie. Want some makeup, hun?" she asked, applying a bit of blush to her cheeks.  
"Nah," I said. "Really, Sarah, I don't see why you bother. You're pretty enough as-is."  
"Jean! Get in here and let me do your hair!" yelled my mom.  
Crap.  
"Crap," Sarah whispered, echoing my own thoughts. In a louder voice she called "Mom! I've got her!"  
Whew. "Thanks, Sarah. Really," I stated.  
"Under one condition,"; she added, "I get to put some makeup on you, as well."  
_"Why?"_ I groaned.  
"Because, you need to play up those pretty, blue eyes of yours. Now, get over here before Mom comes after you."  
_Well, anything's better than Mom coming after me,_ I decide, and walk to the torture chair in front of the vanity. I was _definitely_ going to regret this.


	3. Party

The party was in full swing by the time I got downstairs. Everyone who wanted to be a someone _had_ to be at Dr. and Mrs. Grey's parties. They thought it made them important. To tell the truth, it just made them pitiful.

Mom's red hair-yes, red again, it runs in the family- was pulled back into an ornate up do that was a bit too fancy for a garden party, and reeked of money. As I made my way over to with Sara, she glared at me with her cold, gray eyes.

"Sorry we're late, Mom," Sara said. "I had a bit of trouble with my hair and I asked Jeannie to help out a bit"

"Ah," was all Mom said as she turned away. Perhaps she saw through Sara's lie. It was a glaringly obvious one. Her chin-length hair was artistically messy. It never took her more than five minutes to shape it like that. Well, five minutes and a ton of hairspray. Not to mention, she was done with her hair and makeup when she decided to torture me.

She had pulled the front bit of my hair into a ribbon oat the back of my head, and put delicate-looking curls down the rest of my hair. And she had used hairspray, lots of hairspray.

Sara is _definitely_ the hairspray producer's best friend, as much as she buys.

Mrs. Malcolm, it seemed, had put my best friend Annie through the same torture. She had pulled Annie's dark brown hair into the exact same style, and had put her in a pink version of my ugly frilly dress. Sad thing is, frills _actually_ looked good on her.

"Jeannie!" she cried, "Oh my God! You look absolutely _adorable_! I can see your mom put you in one of those frilly dresses again."

"Yup" was all I could say about all of that. Adorable wasn't something I aimed for. Truthfully, I was a bit of a tomboy. I preferred _pants_.

"You wanna play?" she asked. "I brought my Frisbee."

"Yeah! Sure, why not?" I instantly perked up at the thought of playing Frisbee in the front yard with Annie, instead of being stuck out back in the party 'behaving myself.' "C'mon," I said, "Let's go get some proper clothes on." Proper meaning T shirts and blue jeans, of course, as we both preferred them to dresses our moms would beat us for messing up. She quickly agreed and we went inside.


	4. Tragedy, Gifts, and Comfort

**Alrighty guys.. disclaimer's on the first page.. **

**Just a bit of info for you lot waiting for **_**Orders**_** updates.. it's not gonna happen any time soon.. not until I finish **_**A Whole New World**_**. Sorry guys..**

**__________________________**

I didn't know that, while we played, circumstances were lining themselves up to make that day the most important day in my eight-year-old life. That day was both the best and worst day of my life.

One forceful through. One unfortunate wind. One very stubborn best friend. The events of that day set off a chain reaction of twists and turns that would forever change my life.

I threw the Frisbee with all my might. As usual, Annie, not to be thwarted, chased after it. Suddenly the wind picked up and lifted the Frisbee a bit higher, tauntingly out of her reach, and carried it over the road. Annie jumped and caught it. We were both ecstatic.

Then the truck came.

Blind curve, sleepy driver, guy's in a hurry, not paying attention.

That was the last time I saw my best friend alive.

****

I woke up two weeks later to the beeping of monitors, flowers, Get Well Soon, and Happy Birthday balloons and the stench of chlorine. From the sterile white of the walls and the bars on my bed, not to mention the wires taped all over me, I figured I was in the hospital. I couldn't—and still can't—remember how I got there.

I sat up slowly to inventory my surroundings and injuries-because, I was in the hospital, for crying out loud! I had to have injuries! A gentile hand pushed me back onto my pillows.

"Jeannie, hun, don't sit up. You've been through a lot, sweetie," I heard Sara say. *_A lot. Understatement of the year. You just saw your best friend die, for Heaven's sake!_* [A/N That is how I'll denote other people's thoughts. Jean's thoughts will just be in italics. I'll let you get back to the story now]

"Do whu-" I asked, not quite understanding. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. "Annie!" I yelled as I shot up, ignoring Sara's protests and worries. "Where's Annie, Sara? Please!"

*_The girl in A-12 is awake… I should go check on her… Whoa Momma! Shake that!…I'm dying… But how can I tell him?…_*

I looked around for the source of the noise, be it a television, a radio, something. It was so loud! Finally, not seeing a source, I gave into the pain. "Sarah! Turn it down! Turn it down!" I cried, holding my hands over my ears and my head between my knees in an attempt to muffle the myriad of voices. It didn't work. All I managed to do was evoke a worried look from my sister.

*_What is she talking about?_* "Ah, Jean?" she asked. "Turn what down, hun?"

"The radio, TV, whatever-"

*_What on Earth?_* "Jean. There is no radio. No TV. Look around."

Sara was telling the truth. "But Sara, the voices are so _loud_," I whispered, now afraid to speak in a normal voice. Sara looked spooked.

*_Can you hear me?_* she asked.

"Yes, of course, silly!" I answered automatically.

Sara's jaw dropped, like she couldn't believe I _had_ heard her speak.

"But, I-I didn't _say_ anything!" she stammered.

"Yeah, you did, I just heard you!"

"Jean," she was whispering now, too. "I didn't _say_ anything. I _thought_ it!" She said this as if she was in awe of me.

"Uh? No. Not possible," I stammered. "Not- this can't- no- this doesn't- Don't tell Mom! Please!"

All Sara did was take me in her arms and whisper in my ear, "Jeannie, you have a wonderful gift. You just need to learn how to control it. Honey, you can _read people's minds!_ What most wouldn't give to have your gift. What I wouldn't give to be half as talented as my baby sister."

I just held on and cried, upset that I was a weird, relieved that Sara wasn't as cold and cruel as Mom. As long as Sara was here, everything would be okay.


	5. I just got out of the stupid hospital!

**Disclaimer is in chapter 1. **

**To my readers: please let me know what you think of this story. I'd appreciate it. I see that it has already been added to some alerts, which means you like it, BUT WHAT DO YOU LIKE ABOUT AWNW?**

**For those who have bounced over from **_**Orders**_**: Sorry, I lost my Orders drafts… I'll find them eventually. Hope you like this as well. Unfortunately, you guys who really want to see Remus/Jean, he doesn't show up until chapter 11. Be patient. I'll try to update quicker. Sorry for the long AN, guys.**

**WARNING: Reference to verbal abuse in this chapter! Not graphic, though.**

After six months in a regular hospital, the doctor told my parents to take me home. I was doing fine, and he saw no reason to keep me. It was the end of January when I finally got out. I had been in here since the middle of June.

By this time, my mom had drilled it into my head that I was a murderer. She said it was my fault that Annie had died. I threw the Frisbee into the road. I had killed Annie.

Over and over again, day after day, I heard this. From what little I remembered of that fateful day, I could find no reason for this not to be true. I sank into myself, never speaking to anyone but my father and sister, even then, barely saying more than a few words at a time.

That's when it all hit the fan.

Mom took my constant silence as a reason to think I've lost my mind. Needless to say, she tortured me for it.

In December of the same year, thinking me crazy, she had me placed in a hospital for the mentally unstable. Padded walls, the works. As I was not considered a threat to anyone, I was spared the humiliation of a straight jacket. However, the voices in my head did not help me get out any sooner. If anything, they made me crazier until I figured out how to block them.

I was not released until July of the next year.

**AN: Oh no, I'm going to use the dreaded "R" word! REVIEW! PLEASE!**

**By the way, I have no real experience with the type of abuse I will portray in this story. Don't Panic**


	6. Harbingers of Change

**Er, guys, I'm updating as fast as I can, considering I have school and a job. I'd appreciate it if you would comment. Sorry the last few have been short! The next one is 6 pages on drafts, so it should be much longer.**

Also, that July, two men showed up. One of the two, and his closest friend, would change my life forever.

My tenth birthday had come and gone while I was in the mental hospital. The only things that told me that it was the 23rd of July were a letter from my sister wishing me well and a stale piece of birthday cake. It was a pity, since I usually enjoyed my birthday, but I figured a letter and a piece of stale cake was too much to ask, you know, me being a murderer and all.

When Professor Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr showed up I was sure they were trouble. I was wrong.

Mr. Lensherr was just there because Professor Xavier asked him to be. He seemed impressed by my seemingly limitless telepathy and telekinesis, but that was all.

Professor Xavier, however, was there to offer me a place at his school where, to the approval of my 15-year-old, overprotective sister, I could learn not only how to control my powers, but also how to function normally in the world with them, and, Sara hoped, forgive myself my fatal mistake enough to come out in the world.

As it was, I only spoke to the Professor when he asked me a direct question- at the insistence of Sara. As for Mr. Lensherr, he only spoke directly to the Professor, so we hardly spoke.

As for the place in his school, I asked if I may consider it for a while. He consented, and told me he hoped to see me soon.


	7. My Best Friend Talks Too Much!

**AN: Thank you, LeahElizabeth, for reviewing. I am trying to keep up with this story as best as possible.**

**As an incentive to review, I will, as I did with Miss LeahElizabeth, thank you in the next chapter of my story. Reviews are love, guys.**

**--**

A few days later, Sara got word of a summer camp in Britain by way of her pen-pal. After running it by Mom (twice), dad, and naturally, Professor Xavier (who finally convinced Mom), Sara and I were headed to the UK for a month or so of fun and adventure! The camp was to start on the 15th of July and last until the 28th of August.

This is where my life started getting interesting.

Camp Mason had different areas for all the different age groups for school-aged kids. The ten and eleven year olds were clumped together in the C sector. I ended up sharing a cabin with the most talkative almost-eleven year old I had ever met. Her name was Lily Evans.

I was assigned to cabin C12, which, to my great pleasure, had only two beds. My sister, being five years older than me, was assigned a cabin in the E sector. To my displeasure, it was against camp rules to be in a cabin that was not in your sector after curfew, and also against the rules to sleep in a cabin other than the one you were assigned to. I think this was supposed to cut down on the guys sleeping over in the girls' cabins, but all it did for me was force me to not follow my sister around like a lost puppy for the first time since I got out of the hospital.

I had found my cabin without any problems and was already settled in (with Sara's help, of course) and laying on one of the beds, enjoying a book, when, out of nowhere, a hyper red-head with green eyes and lots of freckles bounced into the room towing an older blonde girl.

"Ooh! I had this cabin last year, Tuney!" she practically shouted.

"I know, Lil. I recognized the cabin," she said.

I could tell by her voice that she wished she could be anywhere _but_ there, in the cabin with her over-hyper younger sister (whom she looked nothing like) and me. As it was, she had no such luck, considering the girl, Lily, was still jabbering on and on and on, so she tried a diversionary tactic.

"You know, Lily, I better go see what cabin I'm in," she said with no avail, considering I don't think Lily heard her over her excited chatter about what activities she wanted to participate in this year. So she tried again, pointing over her shoulder at me: "And you may want to greet your look-a-like roomie over here."

That got her attention. As for me, I quickly got busy hiding behind my book.

"See ya later," said the older girl, tossing an unnoticed wave at Lily.

"Ooh! You're new aren't you? I grew up with about ninety percent of the kids here, been going her for six years, so I can tell the new ones from the vets. So," she rambled, "what's your name? Huh? My name's Lily Evans. The other girl was my sister, Tuney. Well, you might want to call her Petunia. She barely tolerates it when I call her Tuney, so I guess she'd get mad if a stranger, no matter how much you and I look alike, called her Tuney. You really do look like me, you know? We could pass for twins. She says I'm too old to call her that, but you know how old habits are. So, do you have a sister? I think you do. I think I saw her. Short, red hair and green eyes? E sector? Petunia's in D. Oh," she paused, finally, noticing my feint at disinterest. "You don't want to talk?"

_And off she goes, again_, I thought.

"Why not? We've got a lot to learn from each other. Like where are you from? I know I've never seen you in Devon, but you don't seem like a country girl, and I know I would have seen you at the mall at least once if you were from here. And, like, what's your family like? I bet your sister's real nice like you, isn't she? Yeah, I can tell she likes people. But you don't seem to? Okay, tell you what, tell me your name, and I'll shut up, okay?"

I blinked at her.

"C'mon. I won't bite. Though, Tuney says I can make your ears fall off, much as I talk. What's your name?"

I blinked again. I kind of didn't want her to shut up, but I didn't want to talk about myself either. So I gambled. "So, i-if I t-t-tell you m-my name," I stuttered. _God I hate that. _"you sh-shut up?"

"Yep"

"A-and if I don't?" I asked, speaking softly and slowly to ward off that blasted nervous stuttering.

"I talk your ears off!"

I smiled, beckoned for her to continue, and whispered "I like your voice."

Lily caught on quickly.

"I'm changing my offer," she said, shaking her head. "Tell me your name, and I'll keep talking." *_See if she just wants to be obstinate._*

"Jean Grey," I whispered, smiling slightly at the snide thought that rooted its way across the room. "Nice to meet you."

"You really want me to keep talking, don't you?"

I nodded.

"But you don't much like talking."

I shook my head.

"I can tell. Why not?"

"I st-stutter when I'm nervous."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. And it gets better the more you talk. But you don't have to. Talk, I mean."

"I will, occasionally. And yes, I d-do have a sister. Her n-name's Sara. She's the best."

I was starting to like the bubbly, talkative red-head, and I was sure that Sara would absolutely love her.

**[ A/N: Okay Grammar Nazis, I know Lily's grammar is bad. She is an ELEVEN year old girl. She's not going to have the best grammar in the world, remember that before you flame, please. Those worried about Lily, I have always seen her as the social antithesis of Jean; bubbly, hyper, and prone to go off on a tangent, yet, in her later years, mature. This is what helps bring Jean out of her shell. This and another thing you'll find out about later, that is. Yes, it is a boy.**

**You lot better not doubt I love you. My hands and wrists hurt from typing this chapter.]**


	8. Coming Clean

**[A/N]I am sorry this has been without an update for so long. Thank you Emmy Grace for bringing this to my attention.**

At dinner, I introduced Lily to Sarah, who, oddly enough, was talking to Lily's sister, Petunia Evans. Sarah loved Lily and the fact she got me to talk. Petunia, on the other hand, barely noticed me or her sister. That seemed to be her manner. When I asked Lily about it later that night, she said that Petunia had been cold toward her since she got a letter from a man called Albus Dumbledore telling her she was a witch.

She _really _was a bit _too_ open, this girl. At least she understood the concept of reciprocation.

"So," she asked, "do you climb a lot of trees? 'Cause you've got all these bruises and scars, I figured that was it. So?"

_Crap. Now what do I say?_

Try the truth. She told you the truth about herself, said a voice similar to Sarah's.

"Ah. I'm _not_ sure what to say," was my clever truth-answer. "No, no trees."

"Then what? Bikes?"

I shook my head.

"Fencing?"

"Whu-? No"

"Frisbee?"

_Blind curve, sleepy driver, guy's in a hurry. Wind. Frisbee. Truck. Blood. Black._

My world collapsed, and so did I.

"Jean? Jean? You okay?" I heard as I woke up.

"Lil, are you okay?" I asked, panicking a bit.

"Yeah, bit of a bruise. What happened to you? Are you okay? You got all funny-looking and passed out."

I sat up, taking inventory of my new friend, not registering what she was saying, just what I could have done. Yep, a couple of bruises on her knees. I touched one lightly. "How did this happen?"

"When you fell, I tried to catch you. Hit my knees pretty hard. Don't worry, I bruise easy. You okay?"

"Annie," is all I could say as I took off toward the E-Sector.

_"*Who's Annie?*"_ I heard her think and call after me.

Nevermind the rules, I needed Sarah.


End file.
